New Year's Proposal

After the tour, Emilio explains that he needs to go over the schedule for the next few weeks with Holly, and he suggests I watch some television in his home theater. I say all right, but once they are both ensconced in his office, I decide to poke around. My first stop is the master bedroom, but nothing jumps out at me there. Then I head back down to the main floor, avoiding the study, and go into the sitting room where we toasted the new year together, and poke around a bit, doing a little reading.

Time passes, and it's now dinner time. Sitting in the cavernous formal dining room, I put on a calm face while Emilio brings out the steak au poivre with brazed asparagus and lentils (reheated, I suspect). Over dinner, Emilio explains yet again how he will take good care of Holly, and return her to me in about a year. I ask him if he has done this before, and he replies, four times. Holly will be my fifth consort, he says. I ask him how many he plans on taking in his lifetime, and he casually drops the number twenty. Holly makes a shocked face for a moment, and then hides it very quickly. After we finish eating, I ask him if I could have a conversation alone with my wife. He offers to put dessert together while we talk.

"So, you're set on this. You're content to be notch number five on his bedpost." She scowls and then composes herself.

"It's such a good opportunity. I'll miss you, and it will be hard at times, but afterwards our life together will be magical."

"So, if we do this, I definitely don't want to live here, but I'd like to see you occasionally. Perhaps we could have, I don't know, afternoon tea once a week, or something like that, just to keep our connection."

"Oh, that sounds wonderful, Alan. I'm sure Emilio would accept that."

"And he won't whore you out to other men, just keep you to himself."

"No, he would want to insure that he's the father of my child."

"And we could have at least two more that are mine?"

"All of my children would also be yours, but yes, as many more as you want, we can afford a large family."

"All right, then. I'm in. Why don't you go into the kitchen and let Emilio know we've come to an agreement."

"Oh, that's wonderful, Alan. Once this is over, you won't regret it. I'll be the best wife you could ever have." She stood up and came over to me, about to kiss me, and then stopped, then scampered off to the kitchen.

Emilio and Holly return from the kitchen carrying three bowls of pears soaked in wine. They are delicious. After dessert, I look at Emilio, and speak.

"Now you guarantee me that you'll return her to me healthy and happy."

"Absolutely."

"Suppose she falls in love with you?"

"I doubt she will. I can be, let's say, challenging, at times. But I will never hurt her."

"Alan, darling, I'll be counting the days until we can be together again. Oh, and Emilio is fine with the tea once a week, except when we're traveling, of course."

"And suppose you fall in love with her?"

"Well, I certainly will, for a while, and then I will tire of her, like my other consorts. You needn't worry that I'll steal her from you. If I didn't think her love for you was solid, I wouldn't have proposed this arrangement."

"Fine, then. I suppose I have no further objections. May I propose a toast?"

"Of course."

"How magnanimous of you." Holly offers.

"To arranged parentage, and comfortable lives. Thank you for making this possible for us, Emelio." I drained the rest of my wine, as did Emilio and Holly.

"Oh, by the way, that party last night," I continue. "You set that up, didn't you. And there was never an after party, was there."

"You're a clever man, Alan. Yes, it was all a setup."

"Just for the purposes of finding your next consort."

"Precisely."

"And Holly here was your choice?"

"Yes, my first choice."

"Hear that, Holly. You won, over all those other beautiful women." She smiled. "Did you have other women in mind too?"

"A few, yes. I might inquire of them once I relieve Holly of her duties."

"You mean, once you've knocked her up and get bored with her."

"Alan, don't say it like that," Holly countered. "That makes it sound cheap."

"No, it's not cheap. It's pretty expensive. But you can afford it, right, Emilio?"

"Alan, stop it. You're being rude. Emilio, I'm sorry for his, ... Emilio? Are you all right?"

Emilio's head was slumped forward on his chest, and he was out like a light.

"You!" Holly glares daggers at me. "What did you do?"

"The same thing that he did to me last night. I poked around in the bar where he poured the champagne, and found this." I took a bottle out of my jacket pocket. "See, it says here, 'Sleep' and just below it, 'one cee cee slash 20 kay gee,' obviously the dosing information. I put him at a lean one ninety pounds, which google tells me is eighty six point something kilos. I gave him 7 cee cee to be sure he'd sleep well. It acts fast, which you also observed on me last night. A quick squirt into his wine," I said, holding up two syringes with the needles removed, "and it's nighty night, Emelio."

"I... , you..., why..., I feel funny."

"Yes, dear, I dosed you too, but with a lighter dose. I wanted to finish our conversation properly. Now, right behind that bottle was another bottle, this one. That says, 'Sex, two cee cee slash 30 kay gee'. I suspect he put that in your champagne last night. Perchance, did he say that he wouldn't have sex with you last night until you signed the contract?"

"I ..., maybe, yes, he might have."

"And there you go. The whole thing was a setup so he could coerce his next whore slash baby momma."

"Don't call me that, that's mean."

"If the shoe fits. Still, don't worry, it's not going to happen."

"Noooo, don't screw this up." She is slurring her words badly. "Please don't hurt him, if you just leave now it will be fine, I, ..." She never finishes that last thought, and I suppose I'll never know what she was going to say. But her last words were of concern for him and her arrangement, not for me. Now, what to do with the two of them.

I walk back into Emilio's study, and found the contract. It is quite elaborate, spelling out many things, including that she would use birth control after giving birth, and if she wanted to have another child, she must arrange clandestine meetings with Emilio while she was fertile, not telling me who was really the father. When she was done having children, she would have a tubal ligation, so that all of 'my' kids would be his, not just the first one. That sealed it for me - she had to have known that. That's why she stumbled when I mentioned our children to her.

I'm now searing with a burning rage, and I think that is the only end for them I can envision. I carry both of them up to the master bedroom, lay them out on the bed, side by side, and then find my way to the garage (with six cars), where I find a can half full of gasoline. I bring it up to the master bedroom and pour it all over them and the bed. Another trip back to the garage yields a short hose, which I used to siphon two more cans full of gasoline from one of the cars to insure the lovers stay toasty warm. After dousing the adulterous bed, I look around the bedroom for a spark, and see an expensive humidor on his dresser. Of course the smarmy bastard smoked cigars. I take one out, light it up, coughing (I hate those foul things,) and then once I get good embers, casually toss it on the bed, which ignites very quickly.

"Goodbye, Holly. Burn in hell, Emilio."

I leave the bedroom and head downstairs, realizing I hadn't planned after this. Well, first I should put the gas can away, and maybe wipe it for fingerprints. An oily rag in the garage serves that job well. Looking around, I see several cars, and a rack on the wall with multiple keys. I press the activation buttons on the keys one by one, until a sleek looking sports car beeps. I take those keys, figure out the garage doors, get in the car, and try to head out. It didn't move at first, then I realize that I have to put it in gear. Several grinding noises and a stalled engine later, I get it to move slowly out of the garage. I stop, which kills the engine again, and close the garage. I see flames coming out of the master bedroom window as I get the car to start again, finally figuring out what the third pedal on the left did, and then drive up the driveway.

The guard at the gate house opens the gate without even looking up from the novel he was reading, and I start driving back home. But for some reason, I can't get the car to go very fast. At thirty five miles per hour, it sounds like it was doing a hundred. There was another gauge on the dashboard, and I guessed that it would be bad to push that gauge into the red area. So I'm plodding along at about thirty when I hear this beep beep noise, and see flashing lights behind me. I laugh to myself, thinking I'm probably driving a two hundred thousand dollar sports car, and I can't outrun a bicycle, let alone a police car. Well, this is it, then. If they arrest me, it's over. But maybe the cop doesn't know what's going on. So I pull over, the cop pulls up behind me, and I lean back in the bucket seat, hearing the beep beep of the siren, and gaze into the rearview mirror, seeing a blur of bright red light that expands to fill my field of vision and fades into pink.

I open my eyes to see Holly beside me, gazing down at me, reclining on our pink sheets. She reaches behind her and silences the beeping alarm.

"Morning, sleepy head. Happy new year. How you feeling?"

"Ugh."

"You didn't need to finish that bottle of champagne last night. We could have poured it down the drain."

"Shouldn't waste good booze."

"It's not a waste if you don't enjoy it. Seriously, are you all right? You don't look so good."

"Bad dream."

"Oh no. Want to talk about it?"

"Not really. You left me in it."

"Oh, you poor dear. But you know I'd never do that."

"Say, does the name Emilio ring a bell with you?"

"No it doesn't, no, wait. That weird guy at Trader Joe's on Tuesday. You were getting mushrooms and radishes for the salad while I was picking up the salami. He came over to me, introduced himself as Emilio, and asked me my name. I replied 'savvy shopper' to him. He smiled, and then started talking about himself. Twice in the minute he spoke, I was tempted to interrupt him with 'Buddy, my eyes are up here,' but I didn't. His ill fitted suit was clearly from WalMart or the like. When you came back, he quickly said nice to meet me, and he had to go. Dude gave me the creeps."

"Hmmm. Odd."

"What, did you dream I left you for him? No way. That's a hoot. You must have subconsciously overheard our conversation while you were getting the vegetables."

"Also, maybe I should learn to drive stick."

"Wait, drive stick? What brought that on? Talk about non-sequiturs."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Sure. Actually, wait, I'll teach you to drive stick." She reaches down under the covers, and finds my cock inside my boxers. "So, here's first gear, here's second gear, ..." She never tells me where third gear is, because she takes me in her mouth. I luxuriate in the sensation of her soft lips gliding up and down my shaft. I reach under her camisole and cup her beautiful breast. "Mmm, that's nice," she says between licks. "Here, you can return the favor." She brings one leg over my head, placing her pussy right at my nose. I crane my neck just a little, stick out my tongue, and start flicking her clit gently, just like she likes. She moans deeply around my cock.

Lying there on my back, with my wife's lips on my cock, her clit on the tip of my tongue, and the taste of her womanly juices flowing, I feel wonderful, and then have a most chilling thought. What if this is actually the dream?